Mechanical

by Bruno Flexer

  "So, you're ashamed. You want to join the frontline fight." The cold amusement in the Marine Corps lieutenant's voice burned Tom like acid. Tom felt his face going red with anger because of the lieutenant's words, and because of his cold, mocking tone.

  They stopped. For the first time since they left the briefing room, soldiers stopped their Hummers right at the entrance of the huge hangar. Tom noticed that the squad of soldiers surrounding their Jeep barely looked at them, though they had their M16 rifles ready and aimed, along with two Javelin missile launchers. The soldiers made way for two tech people who were using some kind of radio sensor to scan the Hummer, especially the sides and the undercarriage. Barely thirty seconds passed before the tech people nodded their assent, and the soldiers waved the Hummer on. The driver wasted no time in moving ahead, straight into the hangar.

  "Why were they armed with Javelins? Why weren't their rifles enough?" Tom wondered aloud.

  Tom then turned to the Marine Corps lieutenant. The words "Keyboard Warrior" still rankled.

  "Why are you volunteering?" Tom snarled.

  "Because the Serpent's a real bad motherfucker, man," the lieutenant said in a slow, calm and deadly whisper.

  They drove through the gates at the hangar's entrance and entered a load disembarking zone. All the vehicles in the convoy stopped, except their Hummer, the truck with the secured cargo and another Hummer. Soldiers waved all other vehicles aside to make way for the three vehicles that moved further inside the hangar.

  Tom glanced back to see the hangar's main gates closing shut behind the convoy, the great beast closing its jaws over its prey. Smaller steel doors closed behind the three vehicles that had advanced further into the hangar, separating them from the rest of the convoy.

  Tom saw the Marine Corps lieutenant had used his knife to carve a heart into the back of the seat in front of him, a heart pierced with a dagger and surrounded by a round bull's-eye.

  Chapter 3

  Day One, Fort Belvoir, Virginia

  The Hummer was received by military personnel and technical staff wearing long white lab coats. The general moved out of his own vehicle and rushed into a corridor, escorted by aides all talking at once.

  "Lieutenant Riley? Please come with us," said an elderly person with a white lab coat, a small tablet in his hands and a concerned look in his eyes. He had round glasses and a long ponytail. Tom immediately disliked the man's oily appearance.

  "Yes, Sir," Tom said and followed the man. He glanced behind him. Sergeant Jebadiah and the Marine Corps lieutenant had been escorted into the labyrinth of corridors that waited beyond the restricted parking space.

  Tom smiled thinly. He had overheard the Marine Corps lieutenant addressed as "Lieutenant Ramirez." Steel blast doors closed behind them, shutting off the vehicles and the outside world. Shutting off their way of escape, Tom could not help thinking. Tom could not miss seeing several manned positions, the soldiers armed with assault rifles, Javelin anti-tank missiles and heavy machine guns, all the weapons aimed at the entrance as if preparing for an imminent attack.

  "Lieutenant Riley, you've got A positive blood type, no history of high blood pressure, no history of mental illness, nor any kind of neurological disorder. You haven't been treated in any hospital during the last six months and haven't had any kind of injury. You haven't received any blood transfusions during the last six months, nor had any kind of major medical operation performed. You aren't taking medicines on a daily basis, nor are you allergic to any kind of known medicine."

  "Yes, Sir," answered Tom a little hesitantly, reeling under the constant bombardment of questions. The lead technical person paused his tirade of inquiries to write on his tablet. Tom, the technical person and the entourage of about ten people all went on walking, proceeding deeper and deeper into the maze of corridors. Tom had lost track of Lieutenant Ramirez and Sergeant Jebadiah and their separate entourages a long time ago.

  Tom tried to see some labels or signs on the corridors and the doors they passed but could see none. Come to think about it, even the person questioning him had not told him his name.

  "Sorry, Sir, but I didn’t get your name, Sir," Tom said. The person that had questioned him kept marking things on a document on his tablet and hadn't looked up for some time.

  "Lieutenant Riley, have you suffered from any kind of migraine, had trouble sleeping or taken any kind of sleeping pills during the last two months? Have you had problems with light flashes in your eyesight or tunnel vision? Do you ever experience dizzy spells in the morning or before going to bed? Do you wake up at night or have thoughts racing through your head for no reason at all? Do you sometimes feel your heart racing even though you haven’t done any kind of physical activity? Have you recently experienced sudden changes in body weight?"

  "No, Sir," Tom said, and the lead technical person bent his head back to his tablet, furiously writing and marking things. They hadn't stopped walking for a moment since leaving the Hummer, and Tom was already quite confused as to his location. They had been moving and turning and weaving through the endless, white neon-lit corridors for quite some time now. They had passed through three or four steel security doors, each one guarded with squads of heavily armed soldiers. The doors had always been open, waiting for them, and had then whirred quietly closed behind them.

  "Sir! Sorry, Sir, but I didn’t get your name. Sir, are you a doctor?"

  The man did not respond at first, but just kept his fingers flying all over his tablet, doing something Tom could not see. Finally, he looked up and lowered his tablet. He carefully put his round glasses into the breast pocket of his lab coat and glanced at Tom for the first time. But he broke eye contact quickly.

  "Lieutenant Riley, I understand you may be confused and perplexed, but we are operating on a very tight schedule. You received explanations about the Serpent project and about piloting it?"

  "Only very briefly, Sir."

  "Very well, Lieutenant. The Serpent MK Two is a personal battle tank. Its development started in the sixties during the cold war, but only now have we been able to field several working prototypes. The Twelve Cities War made using the Serpents imperative. Did you have any experience with tanks, Lieutenant?"

  "I'm Military Intelligence, Sir. We don't drive tanks."

  "You have a driving license?"

  "Of course, Sir."

  "Well, thanks to its humanoid form, you'll find the Serpent easy to operate. There are three main differences between the Serpent and more conventional vehicles. The first of those, and the most obvious, is its form. The Serpent is based on the human form, more or less. It uses bipedal locomotion and has robotic arms and hands to manipulate objects, mainly weapons. This makes it ideal for urban warfare, which is, coincidently, the reason work started on it during the Cold War."

  Tom saw fewer and fewer people moving through the corridors now, almost all tech types with red security cards on their breast pockets.

  "The second thing that makes the Serpent special is its piloting method. The Serpent is not steered by the conventional arrangement of steering controls other vehicles use. The Serpent is controlled directly by the mind of its pilot. In fact, that was the main obstacle to fielding it years ago. In fact, the technology for it became available more or less at the same time the Twelve Cities War started." The man stopped and laughed dryly, though Tom thought that even the man hadn't thought the joke, whatever it was, very funny.

  "The third thing is its armor. The Serpent's armor is a specially developed composite polymer designed to provide maximum protection to the Serpent and the pilot, while insulating the Serpent from every kind of energy leakage. It was designed to keep the Serpent's thermal and visual signatures as low as possible, creating, in effect, a stealth personal battle tank. Most importantly, it was discovered that the Serpent's armor can protect the pilot from the enemy's power that made attacking the captured cities impossible. We've tested it in the field, and the enemy's power did not affect it."

  Th
ey had finally stopped and reached a room that ominously resembled a surgical operating room. The soldiers escorting them stopped and took positions outside, while Lieutenant Riley, along with all the tech types, entered the room.

  The lead tech person put his tablet on a table and turned to the lieutenant.

  "Lieutenant, let me briefly explain how you are going to pilot the Serpent and what is going to happen here. The Serpent is equipped with specially developed anesthetizing and hibernation facilities. When put inside, the pilot's body is put into a deep sleep—in effect, low temperature hibernation. When in that state, the body's systems effectively stop, do not age and hardly consume any oxygen or nourishment. In that state, the pilot can be kept in suspended animation almost indefinitely. Of course, the pilot's pod is the most strongly armored section of the Serpent. Do you understand, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, Sir."

  "Very well! In order to pilot the Serpent, the pilot is equipped with special electrodes that monitor the brain's electrical activity. By using these electrodes, the system senses what the pilot wishes the Serpent to do, and, in addition, the electrodes convey sensory input from the Serpent directly into the pilot's mind. In effect, the pilot will see whatever the Serpent sees and will feel whatever the Serpent feels. Do you follow me, Lieutenant?"

  "I – I think so, Sir."

  The man with the white lab coat regarded the lieutenant for a moment with a look Tom could not decipher. He passed one hand along his long oily ponytail.

  "Lieutenant, let me spell it out for you as clearly as possible. Once inside the Serpent, you will not feel your body anymore. You will not see with your eyes. You will not move your hands and feet. You'll see through the Serpent's sensors and targeting sights. You'll feel whatever the Serpent's sensors feel. You'll move the Serpent's limbs as if they were your own. In effect, you'll become the Serpent until your body will be removed from the pilot's pod and revived to normal. Do you understand?"

  Tom nodded.

  "Very well, Lieutenant. As you may well imagine, the Serpent's pilot integration technology made fielding the Serpent possible. Let me assure you, Lieutenant. During trials, the pilots reported feeling the Serpent's body as well as they could feel their own, and they moved it with the same ease they moved their own bodies. When extracted from the Serpent, they resumed control of their own bodies without any side effect. That's the nice thing about the technology; it doesn't require lengthy training periods. In other words, you won’t have to learn to walk again using the Serpent. Isn’t that nice?"

  Tom nodded. He thought his own face was probably looking pretty pale at this stage.

  "Very well, Lieutenant. This is the pilot's suit. It contains the various tubes and sensors that we use to refrigerate your body, provide the anesthetic gases and monitor your situation. Your brain will remain alert even though your body will be in a state of suspended animation. Do you understand?"

  Tom nodded.

  "Very well, Lieutenant. Keep in mind that you will not be able to leave the Serpent once you enter the pilot's cabin, but there will be no real need for you to leave. Once inside, the Serpent will take care of your every need. However, when you'll want to leave, you'll have to return here for extraction. Your mission coordinator will brief you on the details. Do you understand?"

  Tom nodded.

  "Very well, Lieutenant. Now, we'll start—"

  "Sir, I have a question."

  The man in the lab coat did not seem overly glad to hear that.

  "Lieutenant, keep in mind that we have an extremely tight schedule—"

  "Sir, why can't I leave the Serpent on my own?"

  The lab-coated man's eyebrows drew together angrily.

  "Lieutenant, I thought I made myself clear. The anesthetic procedures used to put your body into suspended animation while keeping your mind alert and active are fairly complex. A correct and constant mixture of gases must be pumped into your suit and injected into your bloodstream. Bringing your body back to full active mode once anesthetized is danger-free but complex. We are the only facility that can do that and safely extract the brain integration electrodes. Do you understand, Lieutenant? Very well, let's go on. Now, in the suit—"

  "Sir, if the Serpent is hit, how will I be able to bail out?" Tom asked.

  "Lieutenant, I already said we don't have a lot of time for questions. Briefly, to answer your very last question, your Serpent will be the best armored vehicle on the battleground. Almost nothing you will encounter will be able to penetrate the Serpent's composite armor, let alone the pilot's cabin, which is the best-protected section in the Serpent. We've already gone through this earlier, and you will receive extensive information about this later. Now, please put on the Serpent's pilot suit and we'll go on."

  "Almost nothing I will encounter," Tom mumbled. He threw a last look at the complicated operating room he was in, took the black suit and moved to a changing room. He removed his uniform and put on the suit. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, just weird. It clung to his body in strange places and itched. He could also feel cold spots here and there and the suit made unpleasant squelching noises when he returned to the room.

  "Very well, Lieutenant," the nameless lab-coated person said, and the other tech types swarmed over Tom. They moved him to a metal bed where he lay down. They hooked electrodes and wires to the suit and connected tubes to orifices. In a short while, devices in the operating room began to beep and monitors displayed various vital signs. The tubes connected to his suit began pumping in cool gases that made his skin crawl.

  It took less than Tom thought for the various techies to give the okay sign, and the nameless lab-coated person he had talked to earlier stopped checking his watch impatiently, and they moved on, pushing the bed Tom had lain on, carefully moving a host of devices that rolled along on wheels. Tom was now the center of a dense forest of wires, cables and tubes connecting his suit to the devices rolling next to him.

  Like a queen bee, taken care of by its workers, Tom thought.

  A short while later, after passing another security check and a steel door, they entered a large room, a hall. Tom's body started against his will, making his suit squeal and the tech types hurriedly recheck the wire and tube connections. At the center of the hall, suspended by a matrix of steel supports, was a Serpent. It was held up, its arms stretched to the sides, its clawed feet on the ground. It's been crucified there, Tom could not help thinking, his eyes wide.

  But even held there suspended, clearly powerless, the black weapon seemed ominous. Its dark, unreflective surface was matt and smooth, with almost no reflections. Tom saw what appeared to be spikes and blades pushing out from the weapon's back, head and limbs. Probably antennas and other aerials, thought Tom. They made the Serpent seem even more intimidating. They made it seem like a horned demonic weapon of war.

  The hall was tall enough to enable the Serpent to stand to its full ten-feet height. The Serpent's limbs were lean and powerful, with huge clawed hands and feet. Its midsection was triangular, like a well-toned human swimmer, strong but slim. The Serpent gave the impression of a gaunt humanoid creature with a well-muscled midsection and long arms and legs that were too skeletal.

  The Serpent's head was craned up, looking at the ceiling, and Tom was a little grateful for that. He did not wish to meet the weapon's eyeless stare again, just right now.

  Tom blinked. It took him a while to realize that the Serpent's midsection, its upper torso, was open. A host of tube endings and wires were held suspended on a much finer grid, waiting for the pilot.

  "I go in there?” asked Tom dazedly.

  "Yes, Lieutenant, in a fetal position," the lab-coated man said distractedly. He was standing near a desk, talking on a phone with short, terse sentences. "Yeah, he's here. We're beginning to put him in. Tell him he has five minutes before we start anesthetizing procedures. Yeah!" The man put down the phone, put his round glasses on and turned to his techies. "Let's begin."

  Tom felt really uncomfortable abo
ut this. Everything was really happening too fast. He held onto the sides of the bed tightly. The techies swarmed over him and started working. The bed was raised to the level of the Serpent and the techies stood on the scaffolding that surrounded the weapon. Tom was gently but firmly inserted into the Serpent. He assumed a fetal position and the tubes and wires from his suit were connected to the Serpent.

  Tom squirmed. It wasn't exactly comfortable inside the Serpent, and he started feeling a little claustrophobic, even though the hatch hadn't been closed yet. Tom felt his limbs strain against the immovable surface of the Serpent's pilot cockpit. Metal restraints were now being fastened over his arms, legs and torso, holding him tightly in place.

  "We can't have you moving freely here. You might hurt yourself during maneuvers," the lead tech type said. Tom was feeling really queasy now, though the suit gases were keeping his body cool and comfortable.

  "Lieutenant?" It was the general who now appeared suddenly at his side, standing on the scaffolding so he could look into Tom's eyes. "How are you doing?"

  Tom took a moment to reply. He saw the worry lines on the old man's tough face hadn't disappeared. Quite the contrary, they seemed more pronounced now.

  "I'm doing okay, Sir," Tom said with little conviction.

  "I know this part is not pleasant, but as soon as they turn the Serpent on, you'll feel completely different, son. Lieutenant, I wanted to come here to tell you how proud I am in you people. It's not simple to do what you're about to do. You're doing a great service to your country," the general said.

  "I'm just following orders, Sir," Tom said with a little more confidence than he felt.

  "Nonsense! This is above and beyond the call of duty. I know about your sister, son. If the New York City operation goes well, I'll make sure Atlanta is next."